The Shield of Zion
by Sardaukar
Summary: Galahad has been given command of the most powerful ship in the Zion fleet. When the Aegis is called upon for a critical mission, he is torn between his duty and desire to free his friends. First Matrix story.


Of course, I don't own the Matrix, but I did make up the Aegis. You know the drill, this is all Warner Bros' intellectual property and so on. This is the tame first chapter, but it'll get heavier as time goes on.

CHAPTER 1

SPAR

Aegis was a massive ship, even for the ordinarily bulky vessels of the Zion fleet. Those other captains that flew with it could never decide whether they were more comfortable in the back (and behind a ship with poor acceleration/deceleration abilities), or in front of it (with such a huge body behind them with those same speed problems). This was almost never a problem, though. As with most of the Zion ships, the Aegis flew alone through the darkness that was once called civilization. Only the occasional flight of sentinels ever bothered them, and Aegis was more than equipped to handle five defense robots whose attacks, methods and destruction had become almost routine. Unless soldiers were jacked into the Matrix at the time, it was a simple and boring matter for a pilot to put down the ship, power down, and fire the EMP, using the onboard guns to finish off any that might be lucky or resilient enough to survive (which happened only in rumors). It took about thirty seconds.

Pulling up carefully on the control column, Carlos blinked a few times, then focused his tired retinas on the unending gray and black, with a slight blue illumination, that stretched off for a hundred kilometers, each one identical to the hundred behind them. Sometimes he regretted taking this job, piloting the largest and most powerful ship in the Zion fleet. It was mind-numbing to watch the same sights over and over, and piloting a clumsy and important vessel like the Aegis only added to the typical pilot's stress (Carlos was horrified at tight turns and unstable tunnels). Worst of all, the shifting low light and almost-constant darkness played hell with his eyes and head, and more than once he felt as if he was about to fall asleep at the wheel, as it were. He shook his head, slapped his face a couple times when it happened, but would never hesitate to turn the controls over to just about anybody with a piloting certification (being everybody onboard). Sometimes, Carlos regretted his job, but always felt as if it was his duty to do something to aid in the defense of his people and his city. That responsibility transcended any kind of boredom or narcolepsy. 

Lights blinked in chaotic patterns all over the controls. Every little detail about the ship was covered in here, from engines to refrigeration. And each had it's own little set of blinking lights. Carlos had long since shut off those that were nonessential during flight operations. He really didn't care if the light in the rear bathroom was working or not. It wasn't relevant enough to distract him from the radar. 

_Neither is this code readout_, he thought as he stared into the screen with the dribbling lines of code that wrote the record of the digital combat going on in the other room. Like all ship crew, he was trained to read the code from the day his computer aptitude was discovered. But right now, it had no purpose in his cockpit, and he reached over to turn the monitor off. But his hand hesitated. He watched as Bear threw a meaty fist at Galahad, an opponent half his size. Galahad dropped to the ground, splits stretching his legs wide. The smaller warrior planted his fists and launched himself upward, flipping over Bear's shoulders, and sweeping his feet out from under him, sending the massive warrior to the dojo floor with an impressive thud.

Carlos smiled. Despite his grumpiness, he loved to see a good spar, especially between the skinny captain and his giant friend and lieutenant. But, he had a ship to bring home. He flicked the switch on the monitor and the image died in a green flare. They were about twenty minutes from Zion's southeast perimeter, so he had to keep his eyes peeled.

It was about time for them to log out, anyway. 

As quickly as he hit the floor, Bear righted himself and faced Galahad with determination. He put up with too much crap when he was logged into the Matrix to let his skinny little friend beat him in practice. They both knew that one of Bear's good punches would send Galahad reeling and may even force him to log out of the program. Galahad knew that his best chances of winning the combat were to keep moving and concentrate on taking Bear's legs out. He leaped high up and far back, his white kimono fluttering in the artificial air. Bear rushed forward to meet him as he landed, chopping at his shins and upsetting his fall, making him crash on his side.

Galahad tasted blood. He also saw the shadow of Bear looming over him, and knew that more pain and more blood was soon to follow. Striking out with his heel, Galahad hit Bear square in the middle of the shin bone, setting off his balance for a moment. In his fastest move of the session, Galahad sprung to his feet and launched at the wall. Twisting his body to the right, he planted his foot firmly on the wall, and launched forward, legs extended at Bear's face level. Cringing, Bear started to lean backwards, and saw his friend's bare foot growing in his vision. With a mere few centimeters between ankle and cheekbone, a chime rang through the dojo. Bear fell backwards and Galahad retracted his foot, knowing that the fight was over. The dojo disappeared in a flash, becoming a white void, and they both felt very insubstantial.

Bear blinked hard whenever they pulled the jack out of his head. He didn't think he felt anything, but the thought of a metal probe sliding neat and perfect through his brain, terminating just behind his sinuses, always disturbed him. As Galahad's chair descended he grinned wide at Bear. There was no real winner to the fight until the first one grinned. That was the finishing blow. 

Amethyst smiled as she hooked Bear's plug back on the rack, pushing it aside. "He always has you with the wall kick," she said. Taking Galahad's side was neither unusual or unexpected. She was Galahad's lover. They knew each other in the Matrix (he freed her), and felt even closer once they both knew the truth. No college to worry about, no jobs to be concerned with, no reason to be annoyed at politics. It was all basically meaningless. Privately, they still called each other by what they were called in the Matrix, feeling that to be the only part of their old lives that really mattered. 

They were both wrong.

She walked over and unplugged Galahad, who stretched in the chair and rose. He thought he tasted blood back in his gums, but ignored it and shook Bear's hand.

"Bear, a good fight, as always."

Bear squeezed Galahad's hand tighter than normal, his minor revenge that both of them expected. He laughed and popped his knuckles as he walked to the control deck. 


End file.
